The Mabinogion (Oxford World's Classics) (14 page)

Meanwhile Gwydion and Gilfaethwy did not come near the court, but continued to circuit the land until a ban went out denying them food and drink. At first, they would not go near Math. Then they came.

‘Lord,’ they said, ‘good day to you.’
*

‘Well,’ he said, ‘have you come here to make amends?’

‘Lord, we are at your will.’

‘Had it been my will, I would not have lost all those men and weapons. You cannot compensate me for my shame, not to mention Pryderi’s death. But since you have come to do my will, I will begin to punish you.’

Then he took his magic wand, and struck Gilfaethwy so that he changed into a good-sized hind, and he caught Gwydion quickly—he could not escape although he wanted to—and struck him with the same magic wand so that he changed into a stag.

‘Since you are in league with each other, I will make you live together and mate with each other, and take on the nature of the wild
animals whose shape you are in; and when they have offspring, so shall you. And a year from today return here to me.’

At the end of the year to the very day, behold, he heard a commotion under the chamber wall, and the dogs of the court barking at the commotion.

‘Have a look what is outside,’ he said,

‘Lord,’ said one, ‘I have looked. There is a stag and a hind, and a fawn with them.’

Then Math, too, got up and went outside. And when he came he could see the three animals, namely a stag, a hind, and a sturdy fawn. He raised his magic wand.

‘The one that has been a hind for the past year shall be a wild boar this year. And the one that has been a stag for the past year shall be a wild sow this year.’ Then he strikes them with the magic wand.

‘The boy, however, I will take, and have him fostered and baptized.’ He was called Hyddwn.

‘Now go, and let the one be a wild boar and the other a wild sow. And let the nature that is in wild swine be yours too. And a year from today be here under the wall with your offspring.’

At the end of the year, behold, they heard dogs barking under the chamber wall and the court gathering around them. Then Math, too, got up and went outside. When he came outside, he could see three animals, namely a wild boar, a wild sow, and a good-sized young one with them. And it was big for its age.

‘Yes,’ he said, ‘I will take this one, and have him baptized.’ He struck him with the magic wand so that he changed into a large, handsome, auburn-haired lad. That one was called Hychddwn.

‘As for you, the one that has been a wild boar for the past year shall be a she-wolf this year, and the one that has been a wild sow for the past year shall be a wolf this year.’ Then he strikes them with the magic wand so that they become a wolf and she-wolf.

‘And take on the nature of the animals whose shape you are in. And be here a year from this very day, under this wall.’

That same day, at the end of the year, behold, he could hear a disturbance and barking under the chamber wall. He got up to go outside, and when he came he could see a wolf and a she-wolf and a strong wolf cub with them.

‘I will take this one,’ he said, ‘and have him baptized, and his name is ready, Bleiddwn. The three boys are yours and those three are:

The three sons of wicked Gilfaethwy,

Three true champions,

Bleiddwn, Hyddwn, Hychddwn Hir.’
*

 

Then he strikes them both with the magic wand so that they are in their own form.

‘Men,’ he said, ‘if you did me wrong, you have been punished enough, and you have been greatly shamed that each of you has offspring by the other. Prepare a bath for the men and wash their heads and have them properly dressed.’ That was done for them.

After they had got themselves ready, they came to Math.

‘Men,’ he said, ‘you have had peace and you shall have friendship.
*
Now give me advice as to which virgin I should seek.’

‘Lord,’ said Gwydion son of Dôn, ‘it is easy to advise you— Aranrhod daughter of Dôn,
*
your niece, your sister’s daughter.’ She was brought to Math. The maiden entered.

‘Maiden,’ he said, ‘are you a virgin?’

‘That is my belief.’
*
Then he took his magic wand and bent it.

‘Step over this,’ he said, ‘and if you are a virgin I shall know.’
*

Then she stepped over the magic wand, and as she stepped she dropped a large, sturdy, yellow-haired boy. The boy gave a loud cry. After the boy’s cry she made for the door, but as she went she dropped a small something. Before anyone could get a second glimpse of it, Gwydion took it and wrapped a sheet of brocaded silk around it and hid it. He hid it in a small chest at the foot of his bed.

‘Well,’ said Math son of Mathonwy, of the sturdy, yellow-haired boy, ‘I will have this one baptized. I will call him Dylan.’

The boy was baptized. As soon as he was baptized he made for the sea. And there and then, as soon as he came to the sea, he took on the sea’s nature and swam as well as the best fish in the sea. Because of that he was called Dylan Eil Ton—no wave ever broke beneath him. The blow which killed him was struck by Gofannon, his uncle. And that was one of the Three Unfortunate Blows.
*

One day, as Gwydion was in his bed, and waking up, he heard a cry from the chest at his feet. Although it was not loud, it was loud enough for him to hear it. He got up quickly and opened the chest.
As he opened it, he could see a small boy waving his arms free of the folds of the sheet and throwing it aside. He took the boy in his arms and carried him to the town, where he knew of a woman who was nursing. And he struck a bargain with the woman to suckle the boy. The boy was reared that year. At the end of the year they would have been surprised at his sturdiness had he been two years old. And by the second year he was a large boy, and was able to go to court on his own. Gwydion himself took notice of him when he came to court. And the boy grew used to Gwydion and loved him more than anyone. Then the boy was reared at the court until he was four years old; and it would have been surprising for an eight-year-old boy to be as sturdy as that.

One day the boy followed Gwydion as he went out walking. He made for Caer Aranrhod and the boy with him. When he came to the court, Aranrhod got up to meet him, to welcome and to greet him.

‘May God prosper you,’ he said.

‘Who is the boy behind you?’ she said.

‘This boy is a son of yours,’ he said.

‘Alas man, what has come over you, putting me to shame, and pursuing my shame by keeping him as long as this?’

‘If you have no greater shame than that I should foster a boy as fine as this, then your shame is but a small matter.’

‘What is your boy’s name?’ she said.

‘God knows,’ he said, ‘he has no name yet.’

‘Well,’ she said, ‘I will swear a destiny that he shall not get a name until he gets one from me.’

‘By my confession to God,’ he said, ‘you are a wicked woman; but the boy shall have a name, though it displeases you. And you,’ he said, ‘it is because of him you are angry, since you are no longer called a virgin. Never again will you be called a virgin.’

Then he walked away angrily, and made for Caer Dathyl and stayed there that night. And the next day he got up and took the boy with him, and went walking along the seashore between there and Aber Menai. And where he saw dulse and wrack
*
he conjured up a ship. And out of the seaweed and dulse he conjured up Cordovan leather, a good deal of it, and he coloured it so that no one had seen more beautiful leather than that. Then he rigged a sail on the ship, and he and the boy sailed to the harbour entrance of Caer Aranrhod. Then they began to cut out shoes and stitch them. And then they were
seen from the fort. When Gwydion realized they had been seen from the fort, he took away their own appearance and gave them another so that they would not be recognized.

‘Who are the people in the ship?’ said Aranrhod.

‘Shoemakers,’ they said.

‘Go and see what kind of leather they have, and what sort of work they are doing.’ They went. When they arrived, Gwydion was colouring Cordovan leather with gold. Then the messengers returned and told her.

‘Good,’ she said, ‘measure my foot and ask the shoemaker to make shoes for me.’ He made the shoes, not according to her size, but bigger. They bring her the shoes. Behold, the shoes are too big.

‘These are too big,’ she said. ‘He shall be paid for these, but let him also make some that are smaller.’ So he made others much smaller than her foot, and sent them to her.

‘Tell him that not one of these shoes fits me,’ she said. He was told that.

‘Fine,’ he said, ‘I will not make shoes for her until I see her foot.’ And she was told that.

‘Fine,’ she said, ‘I will go to him.’ Then Aranrhod went to the ship, and when she arrived he was cutting out and the boy was stitching.

‘Lady,’ he said, ‘good day to you.’

‘May God prosper you,’ she said. ‘I find it strange that you could not make shoes to fit.’

‘I could not,’ he said. ‘But I can, now.’ And suddenly a wren lands on the deck of the ship. The boy aims at it and hits it in the leg, between the tendon and the bone. She laughs.

‘God knows,’ she said, ‘it is with a skilful hand that the fair-haired one has hit it.’

‘Indeed,’ he said. ‘And God’s curse upon you. He has now got a name, and it’s good enough. From now on he is Lleu Llaw Gyffes.’
*

Then everything vanished into dulse and seaweed. And Gwydion pursued the craft no more. But because of that occasion was called one of the Three Golden Shoemakers.
*

‘God knows,’ she said, ‘you will be none the better for treating me badly.’

‘I have not treated you badly yet,’ he said.

Then he changed the boy back into his own shape, and he himself took on his own form.

‘Well,’ she said, ‘I will swear a destiny on this boy that he shall never get weapons until I arm him myself.’

‘Between me and God,’ said Gwydion, ‘this stems from your wickedness. But he shall get weapons.’

Then they came to Dinas Dinlleu.
*
Lleu Llaw Gyffes was brought up until he could ride every horse, and until he had matured as regards appearance, and growth, and size. Then Gwydion noticed that he was pining for horses and weapons, and summoned him.

‘Lad,’ he said, ‘you and I shall go on an errand tomorrow. So be more cheerful than you are.’

‘That I will,’ said the boy.

Early the next day they got up, and followed the coast up towards Bryn Arien. At the very top of Cefn Cludno they got ready on horseback and came towards Caer Aranrhod. Then they changed their appearance and approached the gate disguised as two young men, except that Gwydion looked more serious than the lad.

‘Porter,’ said Gwydion, ‘go inside and say there are poets here from Morgannwg.’ The porter went.

‘God’s welcome to them. Let them come in,’ said Aranrhod. There was great rejoicing at their arrival. The hall was prepared and they went to eat. When they had finished eating, she and Gwydion talked of tales and storytelling. And Gwydion was a good storyteller.

When it was time to end the carousing, a chamber was prepared for them, and they went to sleep. Long before daybreak Gwydion got up. Then he called on his magic and his power. By the time day was dawning, there was rushing to and fro and the sound of trumpets and wailing throughout the land. When day broke, they heard knocking on the chamber door, and then Aranrhod asking them to open up. The young lad got up and opened the door. In she came, and a maiden with her.

‘Men,’ she said, ‘we are in a bad situation.’

‘Yes,’ he replied, ‘we can hear trumpets and wailing, and what do you make of it?’

‘God knows,’ she said, ‘we cannot see the colour of the sea for all the ships tightly packed together, and they are making for land as fast as they can. And what shall we do?’ she said.

‘Lady,’ said Gwydion, ‘there is nothing we can do except to shut ourselves in the fort and to defend it as best we can.’

‘I agree,’ she said. ‘May God repay you. You defend us. And you will find plenty of weapons here.’

Then she went to fetch the weapons. She returned, and two maidens with her carrying arms for two men.

‘Lady,’ he said, ‘you arm this young man. And I will arm myself with the help of the maidens. I hear the clamour of men approaching.’

‘I will do that gladly.’ And she armed him gladly, and completely.

‘Have you finished arming that man?’ said Gwydion.

‘I have,’ she said.

‘I have finished, too,’ he said. ‘Let us now remove our weapons; we have no need of them.’

‘Oh,’ she said, ‘why not? Look, the fleet surrounds the place.’

‘Woman, there is no fleet there.’

‘Oh,’ she said, ‘then what kind of uprising was it?’

‘An uprising to break your fate on your son,’ he said, ‘and to get weapons for him. And now he has weapons, no thanks to you.’

‘Between me and God,’ she said, ‘you are an evil man. And many a lad could have lost his life in the uprising you brought about in this cantref today. And I will swear a destiny on him,’ she said, ‘that he will never have a wife from the race that is on this earth at present.’

‘Yes,’ he said, ‘you always were a wicked woman, and no one should ever come to your aid. But he shall have a wife nevertheless.’

They came to Math son of Mathonwy, and made the most vehement complaint in the world against Aranrhod, and related how Gwydion had obtained all the weapons for Lleu.

‘Fine,’ said Math, ‘let you and I try through our magic and enchantment to charm a wife for him out of flowers.’ By then Lleu was a man in stature, and the most handsome lad that any one had ever seen.

Then they took the flowers of the oak, and the flowers of the broom, and the flowers of the meadowsweet, and from those they conjured up the fairest and most beautiful maiden that anyone had ever seen. And they baptized her in the way they did at that time, and named her Blodeuedd.
*

After Lleu and Blodeuedd had slept together at the feast, ‘It is not easy for a man without a realm to support himself,’ said Gwydion.

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